The Tilt Shift
by M. Illusion
Summary: [Sequel] After her anxiety-driven adventure in the manga based universe of Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Felicity could use some down time. It all feels so distant now. (Author's not dead. Life's been happenin'. Taking a break from anime & got more into other projects. Check out my profile to see where I am.)
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue - Part 1  
Hughes**

The sun hung lazily over the city of Munich on that bright, summer morning. Cobblestone streets sat mostly undisturbed while working men and women prepared for the day ahead. Two such people just so happened to be doing so on opposite sides of one of these quiet streets—one with her flower shop, and the other pausing to take in the view on his daily route.

This was the day, Maes Hughes told himself for the quadrillionth time. He could feel it in his bones: this was the day he would confess his love to the only woman on Earth, Gracia Baumgartner. ("Only" in the metaphorical sense.) He had planned it all out... Well, not _all_ of it...Well, not any, really. Maes couldn't get up the nerve to make a plan, so he had simply decided that _today would be the day._ She would be opening her shop soon enough, and then he would make his move. He had to. If he chickened out now, he would _never_ be able to do it.

Time passed. Folks walked the streets on their way to wherever they were going. The flower shop had opened five minutes ago, and Maes was managing quite well to appear casual. Finally, Gracia stepped outside with a small bundle of flowers, and Maes' heart stopped. She was _so_ beautiful! The way she took an unconscious sniff from her bouquet while turning to place it outside on display; the care she put into arranging them... It was breathtaking.

A pair of kids walked up. The elder, a blond boy in a casual brown jacket—completely unfit for this weather—greeted her. Gracia started turning, but she paused upon spotting the young police officer across the street. She smiled and waved. "Good morning, Mr. Hughes!"

Maes gave her a polite nod and smile. He couldn't do it. Today was not the day, nor would it ever be. Visibly flustered, he turned and continued along on his route—or he would have if his name hadn't been called out again.

" _Hughes?"_

This time, it was a pair of voices. Maes turned and met the startlingly yellow eyes of the boy by the flower shop. Having recomposed himself, Maes raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" he called over in response. "Do I... know you?"

The boy glanced around, and Maes took note of the calculating expression. Seeming to have come to a conclusion, the boy said something quietly to beautiful Gracia and led his companion across the street. "Sorry, you just... reminded me of someone," he confessed. Upon closer inspection, Maes realized the boy was a bit older than he'd initially thought—maybe fifteen or sixteen, not exactly prepubescent.

"Oh, I do, do I?" Maes tucked his thumbs in his pockets casually. "Who is it then? An old friend? Maybe an uncle?"

The young man let out a short guffaw. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. I'm Ed by the way. Edward Elric," he added, holding out his right hand. Maes hesitated, but Edward met his eyes and gave him a cheeky grin.

 _'This kid.'_ Maes took the hand. It was surprisingly bony, yet firm. "Nice to meet you, Ed. Maes Hughes. And this is...?" He tilted his head to catch the eyes of Edward's companion. The girl was a darker blonde, had blueish eyes; maybe a few years younger than the boy, she sported a more appropriate half-sleeved dress. She seemed startled by the attention, stepping back behind Edward.

Edward looked at her. "This is Felicity, my... sister. Her German isn't too good, though. She, uh, grew up in America with... our mom."

The girl looked up at Maes with an apologetic grin. "Yeah, sorry. H-hi." She had a thick accent, but it was understandable enough.

Maes smiled and gave her a quick wink. "That's all right. What brings you two out so early? Are you staying around here? Just moved in?"

"Yeah, we're staying with a friend at his apartment—just down there." Edward gestured. "As for what we're doing, it's Felicity's birthday today, so I thought I'd take her around town to celebrate."

"Birthday, huh?" Maes adjusted his glasses and placed his hands on his waist, smiling. Now this was something to brighten his day; he loved kids. He smiled at her. "How old are you? Wait, I can guess." He put a hand on his chin and squinted at the girl. "Ten... no, eleven. Twelve, tops. Is she twelve?"

Felicity gaped at him. She asked Edward something in English. He responded in kind, and she whirled on Maes. "I'm _SEVENTEEN,_ you idiot. _"_

Maes blinked. "Oh! Uh, sorry about that...? Geez, it was an honest mistake." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, tilting his head just enough to read a nearby clock. "Er, well, it's about time I get going, but... Happy birthday, Felicity."

The girl stuck her tongue out at him playfully, which made him relax a bit. She turned to her brother. "I think I used that wrong. He looks hurt."

Edward shook his head at whatever she said. "Nah, you're fine. He's just surprised. 'Cause you're short."

Felicity gasped. "Hypocrite!"

"I was _never_ that short. "

" _You_ don't have an excuse."

"For what? I was never short."

"Not even. You were a _bean sprout._ _"_

"The heck is a bean sprout?"

"Uh... I'm not sure of the translation..."

Maes watched their back and forth in bemusement. "Hey, I got one more question."

Edward looked back at him. "Yeah?"

"Where are you from? You said she was raised in America."

"Oh, yeah." The young man waved dismissively. "She was born here, but uh, she went over there with our mom when she was still a baby. Long story. Don't ask."

Maes raised an eyebrow. "All right then. Well, I really must be going. I work around here, so I guess we'll be seeing each other again."

"Guess so," Edward replied. He smiled, waved, and turned. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Hughes."

"You too, Edward."

"Call me Ed."

Maes chuckled. "All right. It was nice meeting you, Ed." And as he watched the teenagers return to his love's flower shop, Maes Hughes realized that his last chance had been squandered. He would never ever be with her. He sighed, turning and shaking his head. "Maybe in another life."

* * *

 _Whaatt? Third person? But I liked hearing Felicity's panicked inner-dialogue! It was so relatable!_

 _Okay, so here's how it's gonna go down: I've written a few chapters worth of third person events_ and _more of Felicity's writing. And yes, it is her writing; she's got this neat little red journal and everything. BUT! the majority of the plot is in third person. Her voice is still mostly commentary. Although, I haven't finished it yet, so later chapters are flexible: What would you prefer? I have yet another poll on my profile for that, but if you just want to review with your answer, that's fine._

 _...Hm? What? Oh, you don't like that she's in Germany now? Oh... I'm sorry... If you have the time, maybe you could give it a chance? If not, thanks for sticking around this long. Wait, you didn't even watch the 2003 anime? What are you doing here? GIT OUT! SHOO! SHOO! Watch that first. Bookmark this or something, then shoo!_

 _TO NEWCOMERS: How did you get here? Well, I guess I did say you don't need to have read Fullmetal Adventure. There will be some odd things, but that fic is loooonnnnggg (and very obviously a journey of my writing skills from the bottom of acceptableness), so I don't blame you for skipping it_

 _R &R is like clapping for Tinkerbell. _


	2. Chapter 2

_The day before the day I promised isn't so bad._

 _Here we go, more prologue! It had to be done twice for the same reason the epilogue of Fullmetal Adventure was done twice. Below is an explanation for the title, and um... yeah. Comment. Feedback is food. (It also temporarily helps with my perpetual anxiety. Yay anxiety! I hate school.)_ _Fun fact: I take a look at the profile of everyone who follows, favorites, and/or reviews. I might not remember all the names all the time, but I'll always at least vaguely recognize you. (And possibly know when you disappear from the list. Dun dun dun.)  
_

* * *

 _The Tilt Shift_  
"A phenomenon in which your lived experience seems oddly inconsequential once you put it down on paper, which turns an epic tragicomedy into a sequence of figures on a model train set, assembled in their tiny classrooms and workplaces, wandering along their own cautious and well-trodden paths—peaceable, generic and out of focus."  
 _~ The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows_

* * *

 **Prologue - Part 2  
Journal**

So that's it. I haven't seen that world since. The last image I ever had of Ed and Al were of them looking at me in horror, and the last image they ever had of me was probably the same. I've been wondering how I'll get home ever since, or whether this new world is even connected to mine, or if any of this is real and maybe I just started hallucinating due to boredom.

Did I do a good job of describing everything? I feel like none of it worked. Occasionally I skim through what I wrote at the beginning and cringe because it makes me sound like an idiot somehow, or like a crazy person, and now...it doesn't feel real anymore. Time is sort of standing still for me, even more-so than it did in the Gate. It's more metaphorical than it was in the Gate, which isn't bad exactly, but it's... Well, it is.

Speaking of now, I wrote all that with the assumption that anyone reading this already knows what Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood is. Have I even mentioned that the anime was called that? I can't remember. I'm not going back to check. I also wrote it assuming you know what _anime_ is. You probably got the gist of it anyway. I think I started out planning on showing someone back home or something. Looking back on it now, I don't think that would be the best idea.

At this point in time, I still haven't managed to explain that _this_ world, the one I'm in now, is basically within the same realm of non-reality, so in case I can't... here it is. This world is basically within the same realm of non-reality. That "2003 anime" I mentioned once or twice—that alternate version of the world I was in? That's this. That's here. That's now. It's the same world, but it's different. It is so, _so_ much different.

It's really messed up when I think about it. Tell me I'll never see my friends again, and then send me to a place where I get to see their faces every goddamn day. What makes it even more messed up is that I'm not the only one here experiencing just that: At the end of this other Fullmetal anime, Ed got pulled through his Gate—a Gate that looked half like my twisted, messed up thing—and landed in a world parallel to my own. It's _just like_ mine, in fact, except for being more closely connected to an alternate version of the Amestris I knew.

Oh, and it's currently 1922, so that's a thing. Indoor plumbing isn't a commodity yet. Of all the nightmarish things I've been through, that has to be the worst.

Kidding.

Sort of.

Also, everyone here speaks German. Amestrian is now German, and the Amestrian I used to know is basically gibberish. Did the Gate of Truth magically grant me the power to speak German? Nope! Oh, sure, Hohenheim speaks English, and the Elrics are absolute geniuses, so Ed doesn't find it too hard to understand me anymore, but that's a rather limited sphere of communication for me. I've been having to learn German myself. From scratch.

Writing a whole freakin' book in English probably isn't helping me.

So yeah. Life is...weird now. I wish I hadn't reached this point already with my writing. It makes my escape to the past less...existent. I guess I could explain the weird thing about this whole...thing, but I don't really want to. It would be too weird. But I mean...what if I do get home eventually? I'm not going to be able to explain all this in person—to anyone. No one would believe me. No one back home is the Elric brothers and their amazing ability to believe the impossible while still remaining scientifically skeptical.

If anyone back home is reading this, I guess that means I got there. Please don't put me in a mental hospital. ... I guess a thorough explanation is in order, though. Okay. Here I go. I'm gonna do it.

I can't do it.

I'll find somewhere else to explain it, but for now, from now on, until that point, know that I'm deliberately leaving stuff out.

* * *

All right, setting the stage: I'm in Germany right now. Munich. When I got here, I found that I had all my limbs, which was a plus, but that I also looked like an eight-year-old.

Yes. I kid you not, the leftover "excess energy" and whatever amount of living flesh the Gatekeeper took, was _almost_ not enough to recreate my body, so I was smaller. A lot smaller. Before I basically _died,_ I looked at least like a bit of a short version of my own age. I did grow over the time I was there, and I was probably taller than Ed was at fifteen. But now? The weird looks I get when people realize my real age...

But I digress. I _am_ leaving stuff out about this basic fact. I have to admit that, because lying makes me feel like shit, and I won't do it again. It's both not as weird and _weirder_ than I make it seem.

I think.

This must be a frustrating read.

Anyway, I found myself in close proximity with this world's version of Edward Elric upon entering this particular pocket of reality. His hair is darker here, more of a blond than a gold. His eyes are different too; they're somehow dimmer, if that's possible. It might just be that everything's significantly less bright and colorful here than in the world the other Ed lives in, but his eyes are definitely more of a yellow than a gold. And finally, appearance-wise, this Ed is _shorter_. At this point, he's older than the Ed I knew—a thing I can tell from his facial features more than his height. He's way shorter.

I immediately got myself into his life. Don't ask how. I just did. I might explain later. It was way less interesting than the last time. Maybe a little more awkward, if that's possible. If Hohenheim didn't understand me, I don't know what I'd have done. As it were, (as it was?) through a series of rather boring events and conversations—conversations in which I got right to the point and told father and son that I too did not belong in this world and was trying to find my way home, please help me, I'm begging you—I moved in with them in their lovely, early 1900s apartment.

Now Ed... His personality is a bit different here. I mean, sure, I probably saw the other Ed all wrong. I know he's not a mean person, but somehow I got really scared of him thinking bad of me. That's probably messed up, and I probably missed a lot of the good in him that wasn't shown in my pre-knowledge of his life. Still, this Ed is, without a doubt, far more... _chill._ I sat there trying to think of a word for it for at least a full minute, and I have to say that's definitely the right word. Maybe _mature_ would fit, but I can't be sure, and I don't want to judge Ed (the first one) like that. I think this Ed has just been through worse stuff, if I'm remembering correctly—and he doesn't have Alphonse, so that's a major factor. These two just aren't the same without each other.

And, as I said, he's "chill," which I have to admit is just another word for "nice to me." That's a major point in how life is now. While I _have_ told him that I'm basically the same age as him (we even figured out he's barely a month older than me), he still doesn't seem to see me as, um... I don't want to say his equal, but that's probably the most accurate phrase. I think it might have something to do with the fact that I look like _A FREAKING TEN-YEAR-OLD._

...

Basically, anyone who knows Ed Elric knows he has some serious older brother instincts. I'm no psychologist, but I think without Al here, he's sort of projecting that onto me. Not that I mind.

(Oh, Ed, if you read this... Um... Shoot, I forgot you might read this. Is it weird I'm talking about you in the third person? Should I stop? That wouldn't be very consistent, and I don't want to erase all that, so...I guess I won't.)

Geez, I'm starting to write an essay on Edward Elric. Creepy. Moving on.

Hohenheim. He's...much... _more_ different to his Brotherhood-world counterpart. He acts a lot more _human_ for one, which is odd, considering the way he's survived 400 years here vs the way the other Ho survived that long is wayyy more disturbing. And he's barely even a blond, which makes me wonder where Ed got it, (aunt? Uncle?) and he's got this sort of defeated look in his eyes all the time. I guess when you don't have an ultimate foe to fight, and no hundreds of souls inside you to keep you sane, 400 years can really weigh on you. At least that's what I think it is.

And Al...

Let's get this straight, okay? Alfons Heiderich is not the same as Alphonse Elric. He's a parallel of a parallel of the Al I knew, and for the first three months he knew I existed, he was convinced I was nine years old. He's not Alphonse the kid on the other side of Ed's Gate, and he's not Alphonse the skeleton boy with a heart of gold on the other side of mine. He looks nothing like either of them, except... maybe the face. He's sort of like a weird, older mix between the two, actually. And his personality is basically Al if he was...less... If he was more...

Backing up. I actually met him at the same time Ed did. We bumped into him while out shopping (my life has been reverted back to that sort of norm), and he and Ed struck up a conversation. I didn't understand most of it, but I found out later that what peaked their interest in each other was the resemblance they both seemed to have to lost family members.

Shocking.

Then Alfons told Ed about his interest in rocket science, and I guess that decided it for Ed; he started going to the local library to research that stuff in the hopes of finding a way home through space travel. I almost wanted to tell him that space is actually _not_ a magic universe hopping dimension, but then I realized that really wouldn't help anything. I knew he'd get home in the end if he takes that path, so it doesn't matter, right? Besides which, if I can't get myself home somehow before the events leading up to the Gate being opened, maybe I can use it somehow.

After a few months, at which point we had both been in this world for about a year, (hooray, sixteen! I'm seventeen now, by the way, in case you weren't counting) Ed decided to go to some place in Romania to study rocketry with Alfons. I will admit: when I realized that meant I'd be stuck with Hohenheim for a solid eight months, I felt a little freaked out. But I didn't say anything. It wasn't that bad, actually. This Hohenheim is weirdly, um...chill. I guess things in general are just more chill in this world.

When Ed came back, Alfons started coming over more. The two of them began attending university nearby.

Oh, side note: I got Ed to tell me about what he's learning pretty much the first day he was back. I don't know if any of it will ever come in handy, but it's interesting. Every-other new idea I hear about makes me wonder if it's been disproven in my time, which for some reason makes me even more interested. I've told Ed about my world, and how it's almost a century in the future, and how we've already achieved space travel... Not that I know anything about how it actually works/will work, but it got him excited about it—and Edward's excitement is _crazy_ contagious.

...

I wish I knew whether or not that trait is unique to this Ed, or if the first Ed was the same...

...

I wish I'd gotten to know those Elrics better. The longer I live here, the more I learn about the people here, the less I knew their counterparts in comparison...and the more I miss them.

I mean, it's not so much I _miss_ miss them, like I do my family. I miss them like... Like you'd miss someone who's died, I think. I know that sounds morbid, but I'm never going to see them again, and I'm always seeing their faces here. I've never lost a family member to death before, but I've heard that's what happens—and I can testify for the death of a pet cat, if that even means anything.

It doesn't.

I wish I could see them again.

I...

...

I wish I could remember more. I wish I'd never reached the present. How did that happen? It should take more time than this to describe almost two years of my life, shouldn't it?

I wish I didn't have so many impossible things to wish for.

* * *

Okay, I guess that's really it now. There's no more to say. I'm basically just... living now. There's still that one thing I don't know how to explain, but I think I'll do that later. I have to think about how to do it.

Oh, and I've been learning more about alchemy while I've been here. I certainly have some good sources, even if things are a bit...well...

Anyway. Everything feels so slow now. Sometimes I wake up and freak out because I think I must have been knocked out, or that everyone's left me behind (in remembrance of those months I spent traveling), but then I remember, and sometimes I feel disappointed. It's like...the opposite of the calm before the storm. The storm has passed, and the world is calm—but it's a fake calm, because I don't have that long to live anymore.

I haven't told anyone about that—how I'm going to die young. It scares me. I've done the math: Nine-thousand nine-hundred and fifty-two days; that's what it told me. That's barely more than twenty-seven years. That's barely ten more years I have to live. I'm already more than half-way through my life, and what have I done with it? It's scary. I'm scared. I don't know what to do except find my way home to my family before it's all over and hope that an afterlife is still available to me over there.

But how do I do that? What can I do? Give up my Gate? No, this place doesn't work like that. The Gatekeeper said "no Equivalence." What about this Ed's original world? Would going there completely...do something? Would that allow me to perform Human Transmutation on myself like I'd planned in the other world? Would my Gate bring me home?

It's all so uncertain, and no option I'm seeing will get me there within less than another year. But what if I don't even want to go home then? This place... It's... comfortable. When Ed leaves and comes back, I say "welcome home," like it's my home too. Not that I know how to rephrase it in German, but still. I want to see my family again. I miss them. What if waiting another year will make it too late?

I guess this is the journal part. That probably means I have nothing left to add to my story. I'll come back to this if I need to get something out. Until then, I guess...

THE END


	3. Chapter 3

_Due to continuity errors with the planning, I changed Felicity's stated age in the last chapter from sixteen to seventeen._

 _Not much to recap: She went from the world of Brotherhood to the 2003 anime's movie... so I guess it's the 2004 version. Heh. And, uh, she's got a limited amount of time. She's magically really small for reasons that she refuses to indulge, and there's a language barrier. We're doing third person now. This is chapter 1.  
_

* * *

 **Ed**

"You'd better get moving."

"But what about you?"

Ed turned away from Rose. He couldn't bear to lie to her, but he had to. "I'll destroy this place down to the last plank, so no one ever gets the idea to create a Philosopher's Stone this way again."

The underground ballroom glistened as if new. Ed briefly allowed the thought to cross his mind that Dante must have been keeping it nice like this, and he wondered if maybe every building down here looked the same. It was beautiful. Too good for him, for what he was planning on doing.

"Very well. I'm sure whatever happens, you'll find your way out." Ed looked at Rose as she smiled. She was doing a lot better now than before, but there was still a noticeable shadow in her eyes, like she was only just beginning to surface again. "You've got strong legs," she said, "You'll get up and use them, won't you, Edward?"

That surprised him for a moment, but then Ed realized that she was thanking him—again—for what he'd said to her back then. And she was talking again. Maybe it shouldn't have felt nice to know that she was clinging to his words after what she'd been through, but it did. He smiled. "Of course, Rose."

Wrath didn't say anything to either of them as Rose helped him out of the building. But he did give Ed what might have been a knowing look; Ed couldn't be sure. And then they were gone.

Edward immediately got to work. He didn't move too fast—he was exhausted both physically and emotionally—but he got the job done. He clapped his hands and created a bucket, then he stole the color from the laminated wood, leaving it weirdly dry. He drew up a few small practice arrays before being satisfied that he could do it, then he transmuted a giant brush for himself and got to work on the floor.

One might have expected him to shake as he worked, grief-stricken as he was, but Edward Elric moved slowly and deliberately. Every line was perfect, down to the last drop of ink. When he was done, Ed removed his jacket, slipped off his shirt, and transmuted a piece of wood once again to take the form of a sharp dagger. He held out his right hand—the one Al had given him—and with a slow, steady breath, sliced his finger open. He grunted and dropped the weapon, then stood, slowly drawing his finger over his bare chest, then his right arm, then his left, then his forehead.

Ed quickly erased the evidence of his tools before moving to the center of the larger array. If he did this right, Alphonse would live. If he did this right, he would die. It was only fair, after all he'd done to ruin his little brother's childhood. It was all his fault—every little thing. He had accepted that a long time ago. Now it was time to fix things.

He was sure Alphonse would be able to find his way out of here, if not alone then with Rose. Wrath had lost two limbs; they wouldn't have gotten far by now.

He went over the plan, reassuring himself with a voice barely above a whisper. "If what my dad said about the Gate is true, Al's old body and mine should still be there. And now his soul is there too." He took a breath, eyes half-closed. "Maybe life has no equal trade. Maybe you can give up all you've got... and get nothing back. But still... Even if I can't prove it's true, I have to try." His voice shook as he spoke. He tried to steady it. "For your sake, Al."

He held his arms out one last time and, with a resounding clap, brought them together. At that moment, there was a flash of bright, off-white light. It was so sudden that he didn't think it hadn't come from his own transmutation at first. It was only when the blue of his array broke through his closed eyelids that Ed realized something else had happened. He looked to his left.

Ed choked at the sight of the fading Gate before him. That wasn't the Gate he'd seen Dante open before, not the one he'd struggled through to get back from that other world. It looked different—sharper, less solid. And it was vanishing. He hadn't done that. What had done that?

That's he noticed the naked figure face down on the ground. It looked like a girl about Al's age. She looked unconscious. It also appeared that the top half of her body was draped over a significant portion of his glowing array, and had begun to glow like his own body was.

This was mid-transmutation. Ed couldn't stop it, but it wavered with his panic. _'No, this isn't right,'_ he thought. _'Who is that? What the hell is she doing here?'_ He could sense the high potential for a rebound. This wasn't good. In the final moments of the transmutation, Edward tried his best to avoid including this random person in his efforts to bring Al back—he'd swear that he did—but he had to keep it steady. He closed his eyes again.

The last thing he saw was white.

* * *

"No—no! This isn't how it was supposed to— How do I know if Al's back in his own body? How did _she_ affect the transmutation? How did she even get there!?"

"Calm down, Edwa—"

 _"I am calm!"_

Hohenheim raised his hands to fend off Ed's anger. Normally, Ed wouldn't give a crap, but he had been through a hell of a lot that day. He sighed.

After what happened, Ed and...whoever this was had turned up in Hohenheim's new apartment in Germany. Hohenheim thought that may have been because of this world's Edward having been living with him before his death, or maybe because Ed was thinking about him during the transmutation. Either way, here they were, standing over the unconscious form of a nine-year-old girl. They'd put her on a couch and covered her with some spare sheets. She hadn't stirred.

"Now, please. Tell me what happened. You say she turned up in the theatre?"

Ed let out a incoherent grumble. "She didn't just _turn up._ It was—a Gate appeared, out of _nowhere._ I didn't see... I was the only one there, and _I_ didn't do it! But then she appeared, right in the middle of my transmutation, and I couldn't stop it in time."

The girl drew their attention with a loud groan. Her face scrunched up in agony, and she muttered a few lines of gibberish before falling silent again.

Hohenheim exhaled out his mouth. "That's not a good sign."

"No shit, Sherlock. What do we do?"

"I do have extensive knowledge in medical based alchemy," Hohenheim muttered. "But here... There's a hospital just down the road. Before anything is decided, I'd rather not be held responsible for an injured child being left unattended on my couch."

Ed sighed. "Fine. Alright. But what then? She came from our world."

Hohenheim placed his hands in his pockets. "I think we'll have to wait and see what she has to say about it."

* * *

She had a lot to say about it.

Late the next day, Ed's plans to visit the local library for information on this world were held up by a call from the doctor they'd left her with, telling them that she was awake and they could come in now. (As per their request.) In fact, she'd asked to see them. They went in, as curious as they were cautious, and learned from a nurse that the girl didn't speak Amestria—German. It was called German in this world. That was fine, though. Hohenheim spoke a little English. Ed didn't fully understand the verbal interaction as it went on, but he could read faces pretty damn well, and this girl was looking at him like she'd seen a ghost.

After getting a proper translation from Hohenheim, Edward understood the following: The girl's name was Felicity. She _wasn't_ from their world—or this one. If what she'd said was true, she had just come from _another_ parallel world wherein she'd known another version of Ed, as well as another version of his brother. Hohenheim went to explain more of her spiel, but Ed stopped him. He had to process this for a moment.

The moment passed. "Do you believe this?"

His father looked at the girl. She was watching them nervously. "I think... yes," Hohenheim decided. "She sounds genuine. If you don't know her—"

"I don't."

Hohenheim met his eyes. "She mentioned the transmutation. She knows about your mother."

Ed's left arm went to the empty space Winry's automail had taken up for the past four years. The girl's eyes followed it and softened with an anxious sort of sympathy. That sent chills up Ed's back, and suddenly her claims seemed a little more possible. He clenched at his right arm, forgetting for a moment that it was gone again. After his recent attempt to bring his brother back, the new flesh arm Al had given him with the Philosopher's Stone had been taken away. That, and his leg. Hohenheim had promised to build him mechanical replacements, (because he apparently had advanced mechanical knowledge) but for now, Ed was dealing with a poor substitute to limp around on.

What else could she have known? A random question popped into his head. "Ask her... what color Al's eyes are."

Hohenheim raised an eyebrow, but he transferred the message. She hesitated before giving her response. Hohenheim hesitated before relaying it. "She says, 'Which eyes, the gold ones or the red ones?'"

Ed's eyebrows lowered. "Al's eyes are brown."

"So was your doppelganger's," Hohenheim pointed out. "Different worlds. What I'm interested in is the comment about red eyes. That was the first thing I noticed when I saw him in that suit of armor..."

Felicity murmured something at the hospital bed sheets. Hohenheim translated it as, "I just want to get home. Can I stay with you for now?"

"Where's home?" Hohenheim asked for Ed's benefit, then repeated himself in English.

The response was instantaneous. "Not a world you exist in, as far as I know. I ended up in the world with the other you by accident, and I ended up here trying to get home." (No accounting for obvious stammers and inflections.) Ed asked, a little desperately, how the hell she'd managed to travel between worlds not once, but _twice?_ "A horrible accident," was all she gave, but her face said more. Ed could tell she felt guilty, probably for causing this "accident," whatever it was. "I want to go home," she repeated. Ed didn't need the translation. "But for now, you're the only person I know in this world."

"She desperately wants to stay with us," Hohenheim finished. "It seems out of a desire for familiarity." He turned to his son. "What do you think, Edward?"

The g—Felicity made eye contact with Ed for a moment, but he got the feeling she was looking through him. It made him uncomfortable. Her nervousness just barely translated into a pleading expression. "Well..." he began slowly. "She has no where else to go..."

Hohenheim nodded. "I can probably convince the local authorities that she's my daughter. It wouldn't be difficult."

"I guess that would be okay." Ed was still processing everything she'd told them. _'What if I hadn't appeared in Hohenheim's apartment? What would I have done in this strange world?'_ Of course, Ed could survive if he really wanted to, but he hadn't _planned_ on it. He would be worried out of his mind about what to do, where Hohenheim was, and what had happened to Al—granted, he still was worried about Al, but still. It would have been a lot more difficult to learn about this world, and maybe... _potentially..._ about how to return to his own world, although that idea was a work in progress. Perhaps Felicity could get home too... if it ever went anywhere.

At the very least, he couldn't just leave her here.

He had Hohenheim translate the gist of his reasoning for the sake of communication, and Felicity's face brightened. Though not her eyes... That was weird. Now that Ed thought about it, he realized her eyes seemed clouded over, like she was looking at something behind everything. He mentioned it to the doctor when he came in, and he agreed that something seemed off, and he would be sure to see that there wasn't anything wrong that they hadn't found while she was unconscious.

After a series of long, frustrating (at least from Ed's point of view) conversations that basically boiled down to "this is my long lost daughter. I'm going to take her home with me" and "well, it's quite unusual, but you've somehow convinced me to allow it," they were given the last bit of new information about this girl that the doctor of this world could give: Likely due to whatever knocked her unconscious—perhaps Edward's transmutation—Felicity had sustained a concussion. No one was all that surprised (she'd been unconscious for over 24 hours for god's sake), but there was no apparent danger, so the situation boiled down to, "Be careful and update us if there's any change."

Later that same day, Ed and Hohenheim had a new housemate. She didn't seem keen on talking to either of them anymore, so Ed put his mind back into his books—the baker's dozen he'd acquired from the library—and, over the next week or so, it became the norm for him to look up from a page in the morning to a flash of blue-green eyes shooting down to whatever she was eating for breakfast that day. The way she looked at him sometimes was unnerving. He wished she spoke Amestrian; then he could ask what sort of relationship she'd had with the version of him in her world.

Or—no, not _her_ world. Just that _other_ world she'd been to. Ed wanted to ask her more on that, but every time he seriously thought about it, she seemed to catch on and slipped away before he could say anything.

As curious about that as he was, Edward Von Elric had more important matters to attend to: namely, learning about this world's technology. Besides the possibility that it could be the key to finding out what happened to Alphonse, it was just fascinating. The first thing he went to, of course, was the air travel. Apparently, these two guys called the Wright Brothers created the propulsion system that carried those airplanes Ed saw the last time he was here. Ed even managed to find the original equations: he came up with a few of his own improvements. This was before his considering that all of his ideas had probably been implemented at some point between now and 1903. After looking into it, however, Ed found that there were still plenty of obvious flaws in the modern design—at least in his opinion. He took some notes then moved on.

He read up on zeppelins and missiles, then trains and cars—just to see if those were any different—and then he went on to the scientific theories of this world. Even without alchemy, these people must have had _some_ understanding of the natural world. Having had just a few hours to gather info on that first day, he had at his disposal a few short, biographical books on supposedly important scientists which included excerpts from studies and papers to explain their ideas. (The word of one librarian was a bit iffy, but he needed to start somewhere.) What he found was a whole bunch of speculation and what he deemed to be radical ideas, unproven—but some of it was interesting. Far-fetched, but interesting.

Their medicine was somewhat primitive, he discovered pretty quickly. That may have been directly attributed to their lack of alchemy, considering the only way for them to treat or observe anything deep inside the body for most of history had been via surgery or autopsy, rather than... well, alchemy. For Pete's sake, the general life expectancy was fifty-one! Back in Amestris, it was a tragedy if you died before reaching seventy.

"Edward!"

Ed looked up from the book in his lap. It was maybe seven in the morning on his fifth day here, and he was still in bed. The room Hohenheim had spared for him used to be what should have served as a study—if the old man didn't go out so much—so the bed was just a mattress on the ground (what he could afford), and there was a desk with some history books piled on in the corner. The only window showed a quaint view of the cobblestone streets below.

Before he could consider reacting to the call, Hohenheim threw the door open. He was mid-way getting his jacket on, and he didn't appear to be wearing a left shoe. "I'm sorry to ask this of you, Ed, but I overslept and lost track of the groceries yesterday. I won't be ho— I wont be back until this evening—would you mind going to the market?"

Ed had to stare at his father for a moment, baffled by the abruptness of such a mundane request, before he could get his mouth open. "Uh, yeah, I could do that." He paused. "But—hey, should I really leave Felicity here on her own?"

Hohenheim nodded in acknowledgement and replied hurriedly while leaving to... probably find his left shoe. "Just bring her with you, son. It shouldn't be a problem. I'll tell her on my way out and leave some marks on the counter. I'll see you in a bit."

The sound of the door slamming shut threw the apartment into silence. _'Call_ me _son...'_ Ed thought as an attempt at some irritability. It didn't stick. Sighing, he pushed himself out of bed and went to get ready for the day. First thing he needed was the vaguely leg-shaped prosthetic Hohenheim had acquired for him. It wasn't perfect, and it made him limp around like nobody's business, but it kept him from hopping stupidly around on one leg. The old man was currently working on a semi-functional pair of automatonimous limbs, but it would be a while before it was finished, so Ed was left with a limp and one arm for now.

He thought about showering, but decided against it out of apathy. He did, however, braid his hair, as per usual. He had to maintain _some_ form of dignity. After that came the boring white shirt and common brown pants—but he _refused_ to wear the brown vest thing that went with it. He had no idea where Hohenheim got all this clothing, but it paled in comparison with his cool outfit back... home. If he'd had money or alchemy, Ed wouldn't have hesitated to get himself something black for his wardrobe.

Out of habit, he trudged to the kitchen in search of food, but found it completely bare. _'Gee, old man. You couldn't get enough food for a week?'_ With a shrug and a yawn and a grimace at the sound of his stomach rumbling, Ed pocketed the money Hohenheim had left on the counter and went back to the front room.

The front room—or the "living room" as Hohenheim called it—consisted of two armchairs, a coffee table, an end table, and a lamp. Some books were strewn around neatly, but other than that, it was empty of any and all decoration. Across the way, one could access a short hallway leading to the master bedroom and the study that Ed slept in, to the right of which the door to the restroom sat embedded in the wall. To Ed's left, another hallway led to a fancy little window, another study (empty), and the guest bedroom, where Felicity was—

Where Felicity _had been_ sleeping. Ed hadn't seen her on his way through, but now she sat complacently in the green armchair, fingering a bit of fabric from one of the dresses Hohenheim had bought her. (That man seemed to be made of money. Ed hadn't yet asked where he was getting it, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.) The bit of fabric, as well as the entire bottom half of the garment, was a faded lime green. The top half was simply off-white with semi-long sleeves that went just past the elbows. Felicity had tied her dirty-blonde hair into a ponytail and was facing the general direction of the door. She didn't seem to have noticed his presence.

Ed smirked a bit. "I see Hohenheim told you the plans for the day."

The hand stopped fondling the fabric. After a brief, slightly awkward pause, Felicity looked up, blinked at him in surprise, and smiled back. "You're finally up."

"Yeah, g'morning." He yawned again. He'd actually been up all night reading, but that information would only be relevant if he'd understood her. As it was, he reasoned that she'd probably just greeted him somehow. He gestured to the door with his head. "You look ready. C'mon then."

They left the house and walked a good ways without anything interesting happening. Ed's stomach kept complaining at random intervals, though. At one point, some kid stepping out of his house laughed at him for it, and while Ed was distracted, he tripped on a crack, which spurred more laughter from someone inside the building. Blushing, he quickened his pace and swore under his breath as another rumble attacked his innards. Ed was starting to really work up something of an attitude when he turned to cross the street, glanced down at his companion, and found that she was gone.

For a moment, this fact did not register. Ed just blinked at the empty space, looked to his other side, then back at the street. If someone were observant enough, they'd catch the shadows under his eyes that told of a sleepless night, just subtle enough to be an everyday issue, and then also the fade of this shadow as the reality of the situation came to light in his dim, golden eyes.

Panic.

Ed turned and started back the way he'd come. By now, the sidewalk was beginning to fill with morning pedestrians going to work or to market or to who cares he just _lost a concussed child in the streets of a strange city._ Not that he hadn't been to and from certain places before, but for grief's sake he'd only been there five days, and Felicity hadn't even left the house as far as he knew. _'Shit, shit, shit, SHIT.'_

Then he heard a shout.

 _"Ed."_

Ed stopped and scanned the growing crowd for a familiar face, but no one appeared to be remotely distressed, let alone the size of a young girl. He started walking again.

" _Edward."_

Finally, Ed got to the edge of the block just as Felicity came around the corner, looking... perfectly calm. If Ed hadn't been paying attention, he would've thought she was the child of the woman who also just turned the corner. He thought she'd be on the verge of tears, if what he knew about little girls was anything to go by. When Winry was nine years old (was this girl nine? ten? eight? She was at least half a foot shorter than him), she _never_ stopped bawling her eyes out, _especially_ when she lost her adult escort.

"Ed!" Felicity gasped with relief. They met in the middle, and she immediately took the opportunity to punch him in the arm. It _almost_ had some power behind it. " Don't just walk off like that! I can't keep track of everything as it is—I don't need to end up getting lost in an alternate version of pre-haulocost Germany on top of everything!"

Ed watched the girl go off on him with misplaced fascination. It seemed he'd misjudged her. Mentally, he shifted her over from the Winry Rockbell category of girls to the Risa Hawkeye category of girls, then he made a big show of apologizing and convinced her to get back to following him peacefully. She complied, but it was barely ten seconds before Ed felt a little tug at his arm. Looking over, he saw Felicity attempting to avoid eye contact as she grasped his hand and continued to walk at the same pace. He... guessed he could let that be, if it made her feel safer. It wasn't very comfortable with only one arm, though.

His stomach growled again. He groaned. "I would _kill_ for some coffee and noodles right now."

Felicity muttered in agreement.

* * *

Two months passed. Ed wasn't any closer to figuring out how to get home, but he did have his functioning prosthetics now. They worked about as well as he would expect with this world's limited technology and Hohenheim's surprisingly advanced knowledge on the subject of automail. He was also getting right along with his side hobby: learning English so that he could communicate properly with Felicity.

They had actual conversations now, sometimes with her attempting (badly) to incorporate Ed's language in her dialect. He could see that she was getting more comfortable in his presence, whatever the issue had been when they first met, so he tried now and then to pry information from her. What was her world like? How did she meet the other version of him? What was he like? ("Taller.") How come she'd seen Alphonse out of his armor? How did she get to this world? How _old_ was she?

"Fifteen."

Ed choked on his lunch.

A person in the nearest aisle shushed him. He sent them a glare before turning back to the girl sitting across from him. The two of them were currently occupying a corner of the Munich City Library* that was reserved for comfortable reading and studying, with armchairs and tables and stacks and stacks of books yet to be returned to their proper place. Felicity had created a habit of insisting he let her follow him here—a habit that proved ultimately harmless, as she spent most of the time silently reading—or pretending to read. She didn't disturb Ed's concentration, but when he wanted to talk, she tried her best to reciprocate.

Only this time... she _must_ have made a mistake. " _Fifteen?_ _"_ Ed repeated in her mother tongue.

She nodded.

He stared. "You're only a year younger than me?"

She cocked her head inquisitively. "Huh?"

He hesitated. "You similar... age... as me?"

From the way Felicity wrinkled her nose, he knew he had just said something completely ridiculous. But she seemed to get it; her eyebrows raised a bit. "Wait, when's your birthday?"

Ed took a moment to infer meaning from what he caught. "February three."

Felicity's eyes widened in shock. "You're only a month older than—? Wait..." She paused and looked down at her hand like she was counting something. "No, my birthday is in August now. That's weird..."

Ed blinked at her, trying to translate the rushed and mumbled words. "What did you say?"

She looked back up at him. "My birthday is in August. Uh, eighteenth."

She was only six months younger than him. How the hell was that even remotely possible? Before he could think about what he was saying, Ed protested, "But you're a shrimp," and immediately regretted it. _'Holy shit, you ionic hypocrite.'_

Felicity seemed to notice the look of horror on his face and leaned back. "What—what did I sa..." The girl—the _fifteen year old_ girl (what the frick?)—suddenly trailed off into silence.

Ed had to pull himself out of the oncoming mental breakdown that followed his unintentional use of _the 'S' word_ —which is, of course, ten times as bad as _the 's' word_ —to focus on his companion's situation. She had just stopped talking and was now staring at some blank space between her and Ed's right shoulder, eyes fogged over like glass. _'Shit, not here,_ ' Ed thought uncomfortably. He glanced around to make sure no one else had noticed. "Uh, Felicity?"

"Mm," she responded absently.

 _'Crap.'_ Ed looked down at the pile of books he had with him, reluctant to lighten the load... but he couldn't exactly carry more than ten or so books at once, and he had to get Felicity back to the apartment. There was no way he could take his eyes off her in this state.

Hohenheim had brought her back to the hospital the first time it happened. She'd just... stopped. It was like she was on another plane of reality. The doctor couldn't tell what was wrong, so he chalked it up to a more severe concussion than they'd previously thought. Possibly brain damage. Ed hated to think that he might be responsible even in part for something like that—if his transmutation to get here had anything to do with it—but whatever it was didn't seem to have affected her intelligence, so that was something, at least.

Afterwards, they'd asked Felicity what she thought happened. She said that she'd "zoned out," and tried to explain it away by revealing that she had recently had a near-death experience, and she thought maybe that had messed up her soul? "If you believe in that kind of thing."

She refused to tell them how exactly she'd almost died.

Since then, this thing had become a day-to-day occurrence. There was no telling when she'd clock out, or how bad it would be. Sometimes, she just looked slightly distracted; other times, it was like she'd died on her feet. This time seemed a little closer to the died-on-her-feet end of the spectrum.

On their way home, left hand on a bag of books, right in Felicity's loose grasp, Ed contemplated this new information. He would be turning sixteen in four months, in the future year of 1921. (Six years in the future, but he was still getting used to it.) There was a good six months in which he and Felicity were considered the same age. But how was that even possible? Ed was _never_ that... vertically abled. Grannie Pinako would have had a fifteen-year field day with him if he was. It was just... _weird._

And that meant she was older than Alphonse. Granted, it was just by a few months, but still.

 _'Maybe everyone's that small in her world,'_ crossed his mind. The idea was almost tantalizing. An entire world of people who were shorter than Edward Elric...

He shook it off. It didn't matter. Although, this new information helped explain how Felicity was capable of traveling between multiple worlds and going through some kind of near-death experience bad enough to affect her mind while still being emotionally intact enough to not spend all her waking hours in a state of shock. It also removed some qualms Ed had about looking for answers through her; before, most of his hesitation had been based on a protective instinct he had when it came to kids younger than twelve. Now... well, it was hard to believe, but she didn't seem to be lying. Maybe she knew something about getting to different worlds without alchemy.

He asked her the very next day, and her answer was clear—if not from words (even in English, she didn't seem to enunciate very well), then from tone. "No, I do _not_. Now please, _please_ don't keep asking me about it. I just want to get home too—so if you ever find a way to actually control what world you go to with the Gate, please feel free to tell me."

So much for that.

* * *

Hohenheim was working for the government.

He and Ed finally got into an argument about two and a half months into their life together. It wasn't about anything important—even Ed would admit that—but it lead to the contrarian question, "What do you even do all day?"

Apparently, he was some kind of government adviser. _How_ he got into that position was a whole other mystery, (maybe his doppelganger had the job? It would be just like him to replace the guy) but what he even did all day supposedly consisted of a lot of paperwork and politicians. Realizing this made Ed hyper-aware of his problem with being in this world. He had to find a way out, and _fast._ There had to be some sort of technology here on par with alchemy.

He started looking into the most modern sciences with reckless abandon. No matter the craziness, he didn't dismiss a single theory unless a better one seemed to replace it. He started reading some of Einstein's work, and although it seemed like half bullshit to Ed, it got him looking into a few other things. Light, space, atomic theory—perhaps there was some way of opening another kind of portal with... Ah, but there was no technology capable of manipulating the world at an atomic level here. That was the problem with all this: this Earth was just so... _big._ They had big machines, big countries, big alliances, big wars, big _people._ Well, Amestris had big people too, but that wasn't the point. He needed something more _detailed._ He needed a lead.

"Ed."

Ed's eyes slipped off the paper for a moment. "What?"

Hohenheim hesitated. "I, um. I've been calling you. ... Are you free to do the shopping today?"

Ed sighed. He looked at his father. "Yeah. It's my turn."

"Ah, yes." Hohenheim nodded, like turns were a thing they'd agreed upon. "I'm sorry for being gone so often, I—"

"It's fine, dad." Ed cut him off, more irritated now for calling Hohenheim "dad." It was just to shut him up, and it worked, but still.

While the man was at a loss for words, Ed stood and brushed passed him to leave the room. Then, halfway down the hall, Hohenheim called, "It's getting cold, Ed. Are you sure you want to go out like that?"

"Like what?" Ed looked down at himself. Brown slacks and a button-up shirt. There were plenty of things wrong with it, but Ed didn't have anything better, and he could take the cold. "I'll be fine."

Hohenheim left ahead for work, so Ed went to see if he should bother bringing Felicity along. The fear of leaving her alone in the house had dimmed to practically nothing, but she didn't really do much throughout the day, and Ed couldn't bring himself to leave her to it. He tried teaching her to read some days; other days, like today, she just joined him on any old outing.

He knocked on her door. "Hey, Felicity, you wanna go out with me?" He paused. "Er, I mean, do you want to..." _'Screw it, she can't read into that.'_ " I am going out!"

His call was followed by a bit of rustling and sniffing from inside. A moment passed, then the door opened. Felicity grinned at him. "Yes! Something to do. I can come, right? Where are we going?"

Taken aback at first, Ed returned the smile. "Yeah, you can come." He gestured with his head. "You're ready?"

"Yes," she responded immediately and pushed past him before anything more could be said. That... was slightly unusual.

With just a moment's hesitation, Ed followed her back out to the living room. Felicity was already getting her shoes on and very clearly avoiding eye-contact. Ed walked around to get a good look at her face. What he saw made him raise his eyebrows. "Were you..."

Felicity looked up at him with a fresh smile. "Hm?"

"...crying?" he finished.

The smile went away for a second, making the red in her eyes that much more obvious. But it wasn't gone for long. "What? No." Somehow still smiling, she flashed him a warning look before gesturing at the door. "Us go?"

Ed didn't feel right about that, but what could he do? With a final glance of concern, he ended the subject and left the apartment—but not before telling Felicity to wait while he went back to his room to grab a jacket. If what Hohenheim had said about outside right now was true, a half-sleeved yellow dress wasn't gonna cut it. Felicity accepted the garment with what looked like an annoyed blush.

Aside from that slightly off-kilter start, this day wasn't any different from any of the days before it. This walk was no different from any of the walks before it. Absolutely nothing interesting happened, nor would it ever happen, between that apartment and their destination— _especially_ not in the middle of the street just outside a hardware store—

God damn it.

"Edward?!"

Edward froze in his tracks. Felicity stopped just after and looked around, muttering something to herself in something akin to shock. That didn't help his apprehension in responding the voice.

"Ed, oh my God, I—oh."

A young man, slightly taller than Ed, had just stepped in front of the pair with a fading grin. "Oh, I-I'm sorry. I mistook you for someone else."

"Um—n-n-no! You didn't. I mean—my name's Edward." Trying to get over his shock—and failing—Ed awkwardly reached for a handshake. The guy raised his eyebrows in shock. (Everyone was officially shocked in this situation.) After some brief hesitation, he took the outstretched hand.

"Alfons," he said, courteous as ever. Then he chuckled softly. "You know, you look just like my late brother."

* * *

 _*I don't know if that's actually a thing in 1920. If anyone knows, feel free to correct me. I've been all over the internet trying to get the history right, but sometimes I just have to say stuff so I sound like I know what I'm writing about.  
_

 _A/N: Exposition dump! Or is that just an introduction?  
_

 _So I've decided to start a new thing that my current favorite fanfic author is also doing, because why not? Imitation is the purest form of flattery, and I'm stealing their entire author's note format. Shamelessly. Ahem._

 _I'd like to thank darkraistlyn, Eclairs and Flower Crowns, lilaclily00, Guest(s?), AliceandSam1516, MonMinou, TheRoseAlchemist17, Jessicamathews65, and artsycat for reviewing the last two chapters. :3  
_

 _That felt good. Being thankful feels good. I think I'll keep doing this._

 _Speaking of feelings, I feel like The Tilt Shift is/will be a lot more creative than Fullmetal Adventure was... Or at least... it won't just repeat all the things from the anime from someone else's point of view. It's still hard to understand exactly why so many of you genuinely loved it. All I know is you like Felicity (who is named after a real person in my life, so it's starting to feel weird writing about her in third person), so here's... more Felicity. Hehehe. HahaHA. HA HA HA HA HA HA.  
_

 _Side note: **I**_ _ **'m currently trying to figure out how to write Alfons's condition** , so... any help with that would be lovely. I'm imagining he has lung cancer, but it's a lot more difficult to research how people dealt with it back then than how they do now. (I think I'm just bad at research.) Do I have any historians all up in here?  
_

 _Anyway, it's almost midnight as I write this. I hope most of you aren't insomniacs. Wabba lubba dub dub! Next chapter coming sooner than you think.  
_


	4. Chapter 4

_So I got some help on the lung disease front from a_ Crkossi, _who sent me waayyy too much helpful stuff about occupational lung diseases and stuff, and I started looking into it... and then life got stressful again and I stopped writing for a while, and I wanted to actually get around to updating so I was all like "FUCK IT" and_ justkindofmadehisfamilypronetolungcancer _. But I wanted to credit them anyway for being really nice and willing to help, and also little bit of thanks to_ Nameless I Am _for suggesting the obvious (that I didn't think of for some reason) tuberculosis, even though I didn't do anything with any of this stuff._

Now a **quick** _notice: I haven't found anything that contradicts this story-line, so what I'm going with concerning the events of the end of the show is that Ed appeared in London during the first blitz **two years** before appearing again in Germany. There are some continuity errors in the anime that this time travel shinanigan will fix._

 _Read on._

* * *

 **Alfons**

Alfons's life wasn't going so great.

He was never one to complain—being the gentleman that he was—but that never stopped him from thoroughly dissecting just how unfair the past three and a half years had been to him. To put it bluntly: life sort of sucked, and he was sick of things going wrong.

As a young boy, Alfons blossomed with intelligence. He and his elder brother both showed interest in maths and sciences at early ages, and they excelled in all the same honors classes, racing through their first few years twice as fast as their peers. It didn't hurt that their family was relatively wealthy; they got only the best education available. Their parents, friends, and teachers were proud.

Looking back on such an unfairly short, simple summary of his life, Alfons Heiderich saw the following series of tragedies as inevitable.

First came the war—the "great" war. His father was drafted, and the boys became entirely dependent on their mother. In the midst of the stress of war and her husband gone, the poor woman came down with a new illness every other week. It became a struggle to hold down her job at the hospital, and it fell to Alfons and his brother to watch after themselves (mostly his brother) and to take care of things when she was sick.

News of the war came in like mosquito bites: on the worst of days at the best of times, leaving itches that couldn't be scratched without causing pain. Whenever something went down that might have affected their father, Mrs. Heiderich fell ill again. She worked hard, even when she grew faint from fever, but it never quite went away.

Then one day, she couldn't pull herself out of it. The sickness just lasted and lasted and lasted—her coughing began spraying blood on the walls, and her eldest son had to call the doctor three times before he came to finally get a look at her. Alfons would always remember the words that ended his mother's life.

"I'm sorry, boys, but your mother has something far worse than the flu."

It wasn't until later that Alfons completely understood what she had, that his mom had died of terminal lung cancer, accelerated by the war and all the stress. Yet the cause remained ultimately unknown. Alfons cursed this world's inadequate use of science. Guns, planes, bombs—why were they all so focused on using science to harm each other? Why not help? Why not study the unknown and how to control it, things like cancer and earthquakes and the mind of a killer? Why war? Why always _war?_

"If mankind was as intelligent as we are violent," his brother responded to the frustration, "we'd have made it to the moon by now."

Their father had yet to return from the war. He'd sent a letter now and then, but the information gleaned was far too vague for the boys to understand what was going on with him. At this time, they lived with a rich local elderly couple that was taking in strays, products of war and murdered fathers. In retrospect, Alfons thought, they were lucky for that.

Late 1917, the boys got another letter from their father. This one was drastically different from those he'd sent before: it said that he had deserted his post, and he wanted to see them again. He had finally been reached by one of their many scattered letters attempting to tell him about his wife's death, and he couldn't let them live alone any more than absolutely necessary. He was in London, England right now, and he was going to come back soon. Just wait a little longer. "I'm coming, boys."

But he didn't come. They waited months, and nothing. Desperate to keep the family together, Alfons's brother left to go find him. Alfons didn't quite understand how he'd managed to get out of the country and into a city at the heart of enemy territory, but the fifteen-year-old must have had his ways, because his picture turned up a month later in the first bombing of London—dead.

That was three years ago. Alfons moved on with his life as best he could. He was still at an amateur age, but he'd decided he wanted to be a rocket scientist. His brother's words always echoed in his mind: "We'd have made it to the moon by now."

If it was the last thing he did, Alfons Heiderich would see it happen.

As of now, he was just in the research stage, which had recently involved moving to Munich to attend University there. The last thing he expected to see was the perfect image of his brother's face.

* * *

"Oh, I-I'm sorry. I mistook you for someone else."

"Um, n-n-no! You didn't. I mean—my name's Edward."

It was indescribable, the feeling of meeting Edward's complete, perfect doppelganger. Well, not entirely perfect... The hair was... interesting... and he seemed to be wearing prosthetics—very well hidden prosthetics, but prosthetics nonetheless. This was what made Alfons hesitate. This was what made him rethink everything, that maybe this _was_ his big brother Ed, that maybe he'd just been badly injured, that maybe he'd forgotten and just found his way back by coincidence.

"You know, you look just like my late brother."

Ed's eyebrows went up, but the curious light in his irises dimmed. He smiled sadly. "Funny. I was about to say the same thing about you."

Alfons took in this stranger before him. It struck him that _his_ Ed would actually have been quite a bit taller, even with years of growth on his part. "Really," he murmured. "I'm sorry for your loss, then."

The Ed waved it off with a snarky smile and a shake of the head. "Eh, don't worry about it. So what are you doing in the area? If you don't mind my asking. I haven't seen you around."

Alfons's wandering gaze flicked down to a sudden movement behind the boy (man?). It was a girl, maybe nine or ten, watching him with a strange focus. She seemed surprised that he'd walked up to the pair. When he met her eyes, she blushed and hunched her shoulders.

"I just..." He looked back at Ed. "I guess I was exploring a bit. I've never been to Munich before, except apartment hunting, so I thought I'd get a feel for the area."

Edward put his hands in his pockets and leaned back on his heals. "Never been to Munich, huh? I'm kinda new too. What brings you here?"

The corner of Al's lip quirked up. "School. I'm training to be an engineer, of the rocket science variety." He grinned sheepishly. "Um, not that you'd care."

Edward ignored his awkward approach in favor of appearing extremely interested. "Rocket science, huh? I admit I don't know much about it. Er, space, right?"

Alfons raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Space."

Ed nodded, and then, after a weighted moment, he pointed off over Alfons's shoulder. "Well, we're on an errand right now, but why don't you tell me more on the way?"

"On the way?"

"Yeah." He grinned, and Alfons was hit with a pang of nostalgia. "You're new here, right? I'll show you the hot spots."

The stranger didn't wait up for him. Alfons stood there, watching, as the pair continued past, the girl's hand on the elder's sleeve. She glanced up at Ed a few times, then back at Alfons, like she'd wanted to say something. After a moment, Ed stopped, turned, and cocked his head at him. "Coming, Al?"

Alfons tensed. _No one_ called him Al. Not since his brother died. He swallowed, unaware of Edward's own subtle cringe at the slip, and jogged the stretch to catch up again. He forced a smile. "It's just Alfons. And your, uh... sister?"

"Right." Edward flushed. He nodded at the girl. "Felicity."

The girl jumped. "What?"

Alfons raised his eyebrows. "Is that English? I know a little. Hello, Felicity. My name is Alfons. How are you?"

Felicity's eyes grew to the size of tennis balls. "You speak English?"

"A little." He put his gaze back on Edward, who was looking pretty impressed. "Just conversational English. I'm better with French, but I don't really have anyone to speak it with." _Not anymore.'_ "I might be a little rusty."

Edward chuckled. "Well, _she_ understood you. That's interesting—rocketry, foreign languages... Where'd you learn this stuff?"

Alfons shrugged. "School. Books. My dad used to travel. He was pretty implicit in our learning."

He hadn't meant to say "our" there, but Edward didn't seem to have noticed. He hesitated, muttered under his breath, "Your dad, huh?" then stayed quiet for a minute or two.

That meant something. It probably wouldn't be polite to ask, though. "So what did you want to know about, er, space?"

He gave him that grin again. _God_ , that was unnerving. "Anything you can tell me. I've been reading Einstein, and—"

"Oh, don't listen to that guy," Alfons scoffed, then immediately backpedaled. "Oh, uh—sorry. I don't mean... He's just... dubious."

Edward nodded. "I figured. So what's your interest in it?"

Alfons took a few moments to respond. This whole experience was extremely surreal. When he finally did open his mouth, what came out was thick with wistfulness. "My brother wanted to see us get there." He saw Edward turn to him out of the corner of his eye. Without looking, he shrugged. "I guess he rubbed off on me. And anyway—regardless—finding ways of moving faster than an airplane? Going _straight_ into the sky? I don't know, E—... It might be the kid in me, but it's all so exciting, you know?"

"Mm."

They walked in silence for a few minutes. Thankfully, the topic of the past didn't come up again. Edward pointed out a couple things, but it was clear he hadn't been there much longer than Alfons. They chatted about science and air travel a bit. Edward's interest was... fascinating, to say the least. He spoke as though he was completely ignorant to most modern technology, but there was a... a glow to his words that screamed _intelligence._

Then there was Felicity. Well, there was _technically_ Felicity. She stayed quiet the whole time, but Alfons was no fool—he noticed her constant staring. She tried to be subtle, but the times when he met her eyes and she blushed were frequent. His curiosity grew as he spoke with Edward, but not enough to frighten her more with questions. He might ask Edward about that whole scenario later on, he decided. If there _was_ a later on.

* * *

There was a later on.

Time passed after that first encounter, and Alfons got fairly settled in his apartment off on the other side of Munich. Given the distance, he didn't see Edward Elric again for a month or so, and he didn't really put much thought into it. When they met again, it was on a day when Alfons had decided to go finally check out the city library.

It wasn't within walking distance, so he had to take a bus, but Alfons figured he needed to get out a little more anyway. Most of his days now that school was settled were spent getting to know the neighbors (not the friendliest) and walking around town. He still had excess capital saved from his parents' funds, which was what he was using for his education, but that didn't mean he could sit on his ass all day. He needed some distance and brain food.

He spotted him not five minutes after getting there. "Fancy meeting you here."

Edward looked up from his book in surprise. "Oh, I was wondering when you'd show up."

Alfons laughed a little. "What?"

"Nothing." The young man put down his reading material. He gestured at it as Alfons sat down in the chair next to him. "I've been getting into rocketry. It makes more sense than anything else I've read."

Alfons leaned forward to see the title. "Uh, wow... That's a college level textbook. You just started, right?"

"College level?" The idea seemed foreign to him. "Really. That explains why most of the material on this stuff is so dull." Shaking his head, Edward picked up the book and flicked through it. "As advanced as this world is, you people still treat information like currency."

"'You people'?"

Edward started. "Ah, just... a thing I say."

 _'Weirder and weirder.'_ Alfons decided to let it go for now. He went to find his own light reading and brought it back so they could sit together for a bit. It was surprisingly peaceful. Edward asked him a few questions about his profession ("That might be a stretch—hobby, more like.") but the time was otherwise spent in a companionable silence.

Alfons didn't have anything else to do that day, so it came as a bit of a surprise when Edward looked up at a nearby clock on the wall and announced that he should be going.

"What's the hurry?"

Edward sighed. "It's...my sister. I have to watch out for her, you know? There's only so much time I can be leave her alone in the house." There was a hint of resigned contempt in his voice.

Alfonse smiled. "You sound like a good brother."

That must not have been the right thing to say, because Edward grimaced. They met each other's eyes for a moment, and those golden orbs grew sad. "I'd like to think so," Edward finally replied. He stood to leave.

"Oh, wait!"

"What?"

"While we're on the topic," Alfons said, "I have to ask. When we met before, did I... upset her?"

Edward raised his eyebrows. "Why'd you think that?"

"I don't know. She just seemed nervous." He smiled sheepishly. "She kept looking at me."

"Oh." Edward laughed, but Alfons thought there was a hint of uneasiness in his voice. "Well, I didn't want to bring it up, but you really _do_ look like my... our brother."

"Oh." Alfons' face suddenly felt warm. Of course that was it. He felt insensitive for asking. "That makes sense. Sorry to bother."

"Nah, it's all right."

"See you around?"

"Yeah."

It went like that for a while. They met up randomly on walks or at the library. One time, Alfons found him arguing with a man just outside the university. Something about airplane design? He wasn't sure.

They eventually decided to start meeting up on purpose, usually at the library, occassionally with Edward's little sister in tow. Alfons didn't question why she barely spoke any German. He had to assume she was adopted or that the story had something to do with the war. It was interesting to have little conversations in English with her—American English, no less, which was different enough from the British English he had a small grasp on for it to be a learning experience. In fact, just to include her more, he and Edward tried speaking English whenever she was around.

Their conversations usually started out something like this:

"Hello, Felicity. It's nice to see you again."

"It's nice to hear your voice again—I-I mean it's nice to hear someone in English... other than Ed. And... my ... dad. ... WHAT'S UP?"

Then she would blush in embarrassment, and one of the boys would change the subject. Alfons thought it was adorable.

They never talked about the fact that the boys shared common appearances with dead family members. Instead, they talked about what was going on in their lives. Edward told Alfons that he was working on a project, but he wasn't sure how to accomplish it (he wouldn't give him details "quite yet"), and Alfons explained his ambitions of becoming a world renowned rocket scientist.

"World renowned?"

"Um, influential."

When asked to contribute, Felicity would mostly ask questions about the topics they were interested in: engineering and astronomy and such. But when Alfons pressed her, she started opening up a little. Small things: what her favorite food used to be, memories of Christmas with their family, or something Edward did the other day that she found amusing. When the siblings interacted, Alfons caught on to a few subtle jabs at each other's height.

Then one day, Edward came to Alfons with a completely out-of-the-blue announcement.

"I'm going to Transylvania."

Alfons' hand lowered to his side. He'd been about to show his friend this new book he found that he thought Edward would like, but now all thoughts on the matter evaporated. "What?"

Edward grinned. "I want you to come with me."

"What?"

They must have looked strange standing in the doorway of Edward's apartment building, but he didn't seem to care. Ecstatic, the elder boy held up a small stack of papers. They looked like research papers, or very professional letters. Alfons didn't get a good look as Edward waved them around. "I've contacted a man called Hermann Oberth. He's studying rocketry, like you and me, but he's way ahead of us. He liked my ideas and said I could come work with him for the school year. Then I told him about you, and how you're an aspiring rocket scientist, and he said 'bring him along'!"

" _What?"_ Alfons struggled to hold onto his book. "You can't just make promises for me like that. What about my education? I have plans!"

"You don't have to say yes," Edward conceded, "But this is a great opportunity—for you and for me. Not to mention the headmaster at Munich University has promised to transfer any proof of experience when I get back. We'll only be gone for eight months... if you come with me, that is."

Alfons found himself blinking rapidly as he processed this abrupt offer. "This... I don't know what to say. You must be even more of a genius than I thought to have... I..." He shook his head to clear it. "What about your sister? And your dad?"

"They'll be fine." He waved it off. "I'm going with or without you, but I had to give you the choice. What do you say?"

Alfons hesitated, then slowly grinned. "I don't think I can pass this up."

* * *

 _A/N: Oh dear. All this time, and poor Felicity is hardly even in there. I do think my writing has improved, though. (Let's ignore all the little mistakes in the last few chapters. *cough*howcouldEdbraidhishairwithonehand*cough* *hack*FelicityshouldhavebeenmoretraumatizedbybeingintheGatesolong*HACK*_ _)_

 _So remember when I said the next chapter was coming sooner than you think? Uh, roughly eight months ago? Well, that was directed towards the people who thought I'd never post anything ever again! Sure, let's go with that._

 _I'd like to thank_ _Mustang's Inferno, Ckrossi, Lilaclily00, BlackWolf478 (yeah, let's leave that a mystery), Nameless I Am, MonMinou, Silenthilllz, and the lovely Jayla Fire Gal for reviewing the last chapter. :)  
_

 _oh by the way this chapter has been finished for a while and I wanted to have multiple chapters to post but that's not really working so uh_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Oh boy, here comes the beginning of the realization and development of the absence of linearity, not to mention a new style of writing. Apologies. But not really._

 _Did I ever make it clear in The Tilt Shift that English dialogue is underlined (when there's other understood languages being spoken)?_

* * *

 _"_ _The discipline of creation, be it to paint, compose, write, is an effort towards wholeness."  
~_ _Madeleine L'Engle_

* * *

 **Journal**

I think I should try and explain what happened to me when I got to this version of reality. It's weird, and I don't know how to explain it in a way that makes sense, but nothing's been going on—and I feel like I need to write _something_ —so I'll just out with it.

All that energy-stuff and excess-whatever that the Gatekeeper said would be enough to re-form my body? It wouldn't have made me this small. It _shouldn't_ have made me this small—and it _didn't_ make me this small.

It split in two.

I am literally in two places at once right now.

It actually doesn't look so bad now that I've written it down. The only question now is WHY? I don't actually know. I don't know if it was deliberate or if something happened once I was over here. I have a couple ideas, but they're just theories. One is that I _need_ to be in these two places in order to get home, which I'm trying to utilize, but I don't know why the Gatekeeper would go to the trouble.

Then again, I don't know why it would give me a chance in the first place. Apparently Alphonse did something, and there was something about equivalent exchange...but I digress.

My second theory involves the vague memory I have of being thrown from the Gate onto some fancy hardwood floor in a yellow room. I didn't get time to really see what was going on before I heard the sound of alchemy (I assumed that was my Gate closing or something) and blacked out again. The theory is that I fell into the middle of that... place where Ed transmuted himself into this version of Deutschland and got caught up in the transmutation...somehow. It's not a good theory, but it's something. I've never been too worried about finding out how I got into this mess, so I won't worry too much now.

Anyway, after that... whatever, I woke up in a hospital in Germany. There was a doctor there, and—imagine my luck—he spoke English. I didn't question his accent at first. I asked him what happened, and he told me that I had been found by a young German boy named Edward, aaannd...

I instantly knew what was going on. It wasn't hard to guess where and when I was, and I was horrified.

Don't get me wrong: Some part of me was excited about seeing _another_ fictional world, but I had just gotten out of what was effectively The Void, which I had gotten into by _killing myself for Alphonse Elric._ Yeah, I can say it. I basically committed suicide in an attempt to save my friends—and the world. Does that count as suicide? I don't know. I'm getting off-track. MY POINT is that I was still... I wasn't used to... It felt like a _lifetime_ since...

You know what? Screw it. I felt horrified.

I also immediately knew that my only way back home would have to involve alchemy, and that the only alchemist in this world was Edward Elric. (And his dad, but whatever.) The idea of seeing a different version of Ed freaked me out, but I asked the doctor if I could talk to the guy who found me, and he agreed to contact him.

While he was off doing that, I woke up again.

This time, I was in a less formal hospitalized bedroom, this one much more colorful. It took me a moment to realize I wasn't seeing double; the world had just kinda...split. It was like reality was showing me multiple layers at once—two, to be exact. On one layer, my eyes were directed at the odd end of the blanket I'd been fiddling with (having frozen upon noticing the visual change). On the other, I had reflexively pushed myself into a half-sitting position, and there I remained awkwardly frozen, staring at the door on the far end of the room.

Then the door opened, I looked up, and I just about had a heart attack. A girl who looked _just like Winry_ stepped inside. I mean, she didn't look _exactly_ like Winry, but she could have been her twin sister. The differences were hard to place. Her eyes might have been smaller, her face taller, and her hair messier. Maybe. I didn't catch those until later, though.

Her expression was hard to read. That may have been due to the painting of a lakeside view on the other side of the veil. She said something in German. I didn't understand a word, but she seemed concerned. I tried to get something out—maybe a "hi, Winry. Oh yeah, I know your name. I'm, um... psychic!"—but words failed me.

I opened my mouth, but it didn't open. I made a sound ("uuuhhh..."), but I didn't hear it. I closed my eyes, and I could suddenly see clearly—not Winry, but rather the painting she'd been sharing head space with, only darkened by the shade of my eyelids. My back was against a semi-uncomfortable mattress... but also tense and not at all touching the surface beneath me. I tried to relax.

 _Fwump._

I fell on my back. I heard more concerned German, with the addition of a new semi-familiar voice. I didn't know how to react. I was scared. This was definitely _not_ normal.

 _Not_ that I hadn't immediately guessed what was going on. I was _obviously_ in two places at once... but... why? How? What? The hell? I'm not trying to sound like a genius or something for figuring it out, mind you. If anyone else had been in this situation, they would have known. You can't _not_ know.

In that moment, in all that confusion, I did something I hadn't done during a crisis in a long time.

I shut down.

I don't know how I did it, but when the doctor came back and told me that Edward Elric and his English-speaking father, Hohenheim, were made aware of my awakening, I managed to _stay_ shut down on the...other side. Panicked German became low voices became quiet. Someone touched me a few times, presumably to see if I was still awake, but I stayed outwardly comatose.

Apparently, I didn't do a very good job of hiding my condition from the English doctor, because he asked me if I was okay. He said I seemed "distant," which is a decent descriptor, I'd say. I tried to tell him that I was just... out of it. In shock, maybe? He didn't seem convinced, but he left it alone.

It wasn't long before I got to meet this world's Ed and Ho. I've already described them.

I managed to get the gist of my situation explained to them both via Hohenheim, who spoke pretty good English and didn't take too much convincing. Ed seemed distressed over the whole thing, but he agreed to let me stay with them for now since we had basically the same goal. Hohenheim talked to the doctor and presumably got some legal stuff taken care of (I can't imagine you're allowed to just snatch a random teenager off the streets in any modern, self-respecting, 1920s country). After that, it was all a matter of getting out of the hospital.

There wasn't anything really wrong with me. I was just there because I'd been unconscious (for 30 hours—yikes) and a bit malnourished. (Who's surprised?) Then there was the matter of my mental state. My "distance" was concerning enough for a neurologist to be brought in. I was still seeing double—if double can be described as a film of darkness over everything—which apparently was causing my pupils to dilate... somehow...? I don't know how it works. They figured I had a concussion. A bad one. I worried that might mean I would have to stay in the hospital, but Hohenheim was just told to keep an eye out.

I lived with them for a while in complete awkwardness. Ed and I couldn't understand each other, and Hohenheim had a day job, so I was left staring at walls while Ed poured through books for an answer to our problem. Hohenheim eventually convinced Ed to try and teach me Deutsch/learn English, so we had some kind of back-and-forth tutor thing going on for a bit, but other than that, not much happened.

On the other side of the Gate, on the other hand...

On the other side of the Gate, I took the first opportunity to try and figure out what the hell was going on. That evening, I told Hohenheim that I needed some time to think about everything and locked myself in the spare bedroom. I lay down on the bed, closed my eyes, and tried to sit up. It took a few awkward tries, but I managed to unfreeze my uh, other self, and to push myself up.

My vision swam for a few moments. When it settled, I found myself in the same room I'd woken up in before. (Duh.) My bed was white with a blue comforter. The walls were white, but someone had hung up a nice picture of the countryside over a low bookshelf on the other side of the room. Tucked in the corner to my left, some familiar machinery lay dormant. I was alone.

I recognized this place. I was at the Rockbells' house. In Resembool. It was a little different, maybe, but I'd never seen machines like that anywhere else. (For automail.) So, somehow, I had been split between one side of the Gate in this version of reality and the other. So that really was Winry.

Wow.

My brain barfed, _'So where's Alphonse?'_ and my face flushed. _'Wait, no, Alphonse is back in the world I just came from, alive and happy. But there is a tiny version of him somewhere around here. I think.'_

I pulled the blanket aside and swung my feet over the side of the bed. When they didn't hit the ground right away, I freaked out and leaned over to make sure they were still there.

Yup. Still there. But this bed was _tall._ There were a good three or four inches between me and the floor.

I slid off and took stock of myself. I was wearing some baggy pants and a loose shirt, probably just some old thing the Rockbells had lying around. (The idea that I had turned up in this world without any clothes bothered me for all of ten seconds.) I felt a bit weak, but that would make sense considering I'd been unconscious for so long, and how I was split—and how I had a new body. Oh, and let's not forget the fact that having a physical body felt bizarre and alien now.

Feeling a sense of nostalgic déjà vu, I made my way shakily to the door and... wait a second. Were doorknobs always at chest height? I backed away and frantically searched for some method of measurement. I spotted the bookshelf again. Perfect. A book on average was, what, a few inches less than a foot tall? I grabbed a book that looked particularly average and set it up on the floor. I... ah... Yes, I was definitely... nine years old.

No no, I wasn't literally nine years old. I just... How tall were nine year olds? Four feet? Oh, God. I set the book back on the shelf, staring blankly at the window curtain next to the hospital-esque bed. "This is not like last time," I breathed. "Last time was inches, maybe. This... wh...why?"

My brain got to work. _'Well, according to the Gatekeeper, you lost so much flesh in the first place purely in case you chose this option. Right? That's why you lost height. You needed that to create a new body, and who knows if being in two places at once was supposed to happen?'_

I tried to slow the panicked inner dialogue by skimming the book titles. They were all medical textbooks.

 _'_ _You lost more height because you were limited. At least be happy you have all four... Um... All eight limbs.'_

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and decided to not worry about it further. (Or talk to myself in the second person anymore.) Meanwhile, Hohenheim and Edward (mostly Ed) had started conversing loudly in the other room. I tried to ignore it.

Having gotten myself generally oriented, I hobbled back to the door (the enormous door) and peaked out into the hallway. It was empty, but I thought I heard hushed voices in the other room. I slipped out. The house wasn't very different from what I remembered. Taller ceilings, maybe, but other than that, it wasn't hard to find my way to the kitchen. There, I tried to stay in the shadow of the doorway while scanning the area. The kitchen actually looked a lot different, which surprised me. The table was bigger, and I couldn't see the front door from where I stood. Actually, the longer I looked at it, I wondered if maybe the kitchen was more separate from the dining room in this version of reality. Then I got dizzy thinking about alternate realities and decided to focus on what was going on.

Sitting at the table were Obviously Winry, Clearly Granny Pinako, Little Boy That Must Be Alphonse Even Though He Looks Nothing Like I've Ever Seen Him Before, and Holy Crap Is That Rose? She's At Least Ten Shades Darker And That Hair Is A Lot Pinker Holy Crap (She's Kind Of Pretty Though). Under the table, a scruffy looking dog with automail (Must Be Den) perked its head up to sniff in my direction. I backed around the corner and just listened.

The conversation going on sounded like complete gibberish to my bilingual ears, which scared the heck out of me. How the heck was I supposed to communicate when there were no English or Amestrian speakers around? It was weird enough not being able to talk to Ed. I might have lost my nerve and gone back to the room after that, but I was rudely prevented from doing so when Den trotted around the corner and barked at me cheerily, tail wagging like a red flag. Conversation stopped. I froze.

"Den?" someone called. It was hard to distinguish who it was with the unfamiliar accent.

Den ignored her and came over to sniff me with her wet nose. (And yes, Den is a she—at least in this reality. I don't know why, and I don't know if I was maybe mishearing or misremembering Winry and Pinako calling her "he" in the first world, but that's how it is.) I didn't know what else to do, so I pet her silently while Winry approached from around the corner. When she spotted me, and I looked up at her, (One. Whole. Foot. Taller. Than. Me.) she gasped and said...something.

Someone over at the table said something too, then Winry replied, then someone else spoke. I couldn't tell what was going on, and Winry was so much taller than me that I felt six years younger, and I was becoming increasingly aware of the back of my own eyelids and my ear on the pillow while all this was happening. I completely missed it when Alphonse came around the corner. Then Rose and Pinako came into view a ways away, and suddenly I was being spoken to very rapidly in a language I didn't understand _._

"I don't speak German!" I tried shouting over the din.

Everyone got quiet. Al said something. Winry said something. Rose said something, and I finally noticed the little bundle in her arms. Pinako said something to me, so I shook my head slowly and tried, "I don't understand," but it came out all quiet and scared. That irritated me. I decided to focus on Den and try to ignore the hellfire in my face.

Finally, Pinako said something that made Alphonse and Rose take Den out of the room—and all the way outside, if the sound of a screen door was anything to go by. She then ushered me and Winry back into the hospital-esque room of the house and, through a confusing series of gestures and soft speaking in Deutsch, (German, sorry, I'm getting into the habit) got it across that she wanted them to examine me. For health reasons, I would assume. Winry looked at my head long enough for me to figure I must have looked concussed on this side, too. Then they spoke to each other briefly and finally asked me my name.

They didn't have to do anything weird to get that across. "Name" in German is literally just "nam-eh." Simple as all heck. So I told them my name and tried my best not to get completely lost when they talked to me.

They didn't seem to want me out, so I ended up staying with them, too. While I was awkwardly trying to communicate with Ed in early 20th century Germany, I was doing the same with his brother in Germany-Amestris.

And now that I've explained the confusion that was the first half-hour in Amestris Take Two, I may as well explain the people here.

First: Alphonse. In a word? He's adorable. He is exactly like the Alphonse I used to know, but at the same time—and most importantly—not at all even remotely like him. Maybe it's just because he's mentally and physically five years younger than me, but this Al, being entirely different from the first Al, I would be completely comfortable with calling my little brother. (Even though he's two inches taller than me. Half a foot when we met.)

The difference is physical, too. I only saw the first Alphonse's real face once, and it was all gaunt and bony, but I can at least say this Al is different in hair and eye color. They're both brown—or maybe dirty blond/golden brown if you're pushing it. His eyes are _huge,_ and not just because everything was still slightly animated. Where similarities are concerned, he's nice _and_ innocent, and _full_ of energy.

I can see why Ed misses him so much.

Granny Pinako isn't much different from her other-world counterpart, as far as I can tell anyway, but Winry is like... Well, she's the same, but she's also different, but in a way I can't quite pinpoint. Imagine the difference between a picture and a mirror—it's like that. I think this Winry Rockbell is less of a workaholic, but she's more somber. Her hair doesn't have that soft little bounce the other Winry always had. Her nose is sharper. Her eyes are more focused. In a way, she's more mature. She's a bit motherly, but maybe the first Winry would have been if I had appeared so much smaller than her.

Rose didn't stay long. I didn't know why, and I'm not sure if she was going back to Lior or if she was staying nearby, but while she was there, she was really nice. She had that in common with the other Rose, but not much else. Her demeanor was timid. She was quiet. She didn't do much except sit or walk around the house with her little baby bundled up in a blanket in her arms. The usually harsh-sounding German-Amestrian language was soft coming from her. I can't remember what made her like that, but I got the distinct feeling she'd been traumatized, and I was supposed to know how.

Wrath was there for a while. In this version of Amestris, he's this kid Izumi tried to bring back to life. He's what happened when she tried to bring her son back, though I'm not sure if he's actually her son. Homunculi are created through human transmutation here. I didn't pick up on much while he was around. He didn't seem to like me. The feeling was mutual.

Then he left.

* * *

Let me try and show you what my life has been like.

This happened two days ago. Time, or at least day and night, are somehow synced up on either side of the Gate; I'm not sure why, but I wish it wasn't, because things can really get in the way of each other. I've mentioned that Ed and Alfons have been going to school, right? Well, one of them—not sure which (could have been Hohenheim now that I think about it)—thought it would be a great idea to take me along one day for a look around, maybe hear a lecture if it was allowed. I wasn't forced or anything, of course: Ed came and asked me a few days prior if I was interested, since I've asked him so much about what he's learning. I said sure. I mean, why not? I hardly ever listen to anyone else speak, and I'm still rusty in Deutsch.

German.

And I was bored. School's appealing when you're bored.

The thing is, though, Izumi had made plans for the same day without telling me.

... Right. I... Shit, I'm getting the chronology mixed up. I'm getting chronology in my _own life_ mixed up. A lot of time has passed since waking up in Winry's house. And I guess I haven't said much about being there in the first place. I'll explain some of it later, but for now: I'm at Izumi's place in Dublith. I'm here with Alphonse. This is my life right now. I've been trying to learn more about alchemy here. Learning is a lot of my life right now.

So Izumi had plans. We were going on a hiking trip, and we were going to like it, or we were going to have the shit beaten out of us. "No excuses!"

No matter the world, Izumi Curtis will always be Izumi Curtis.

She woke us up at some ungodly hour when I was still asleep on the other side. Alphonse went straight to packing, but I followed Izumi out to the kitchen.

In my best attempts at a natural translation: "Well?" she demanded, turning as I stopped at the door. "What do you need?"

I jumped a bit. I was still very tired, and now I was thinking that maybe this wasn't the best idea. "Uhm... Mis'zumi," I mumbled to start. She makes me call her "Miss Izumi" or "ma'am." She has a thing about me calling her by her first name for some reason. "T-today isn't the best day for this."

She looked down at me critically. I tried not to seem scared, but I was absolutely terrified that this day would be one of _those days._ She could tell. Her face softened. "You'll be all right, Lissy." (She calls me Lissy. I've told her not to. I've given up telling her not to. No one else does. I'm very happy that no one else does.) "We're just going traveling, mostly on flat ground. It'll be good for you to get out."

I tried again: "It's _really_ not a good day for me. I can't. May I stay behind? Please?"

Izumi's face hardened. "No. Now go pack. Al will start for you if you don't."

I gave in, and I gave up any idea of enjoying my day out with Ed. On any other day, I might have liked the idea of going hiking. I love the fresh air. But this was going to be miserable.

We had just made it to the outskirts of town. The road split off to a trail that lead through some trees and over a river in the distance. We wouldn't lose sight of civilization any time soon, but something told me Izumi and Sig were planning on doing just that.

It was hard to place the exact moment it happened. At some point, I was suddenly aware of gravity feeling a bit funny. I stumbled to the right. Al caught my arm and asked if I was okay. My eyes drifted open to the sight of the blank wall on the other side of my bedroom in Munich. I blinked a few times. "Yeah, sorry. Tripped." I smiled and focused on the path ahead. Ed knocked on the door.

The sensation of one's feet on slanted ground is not compatible with the cozy, heavy feeling of lying in bed in the morning. It took a lot of effort just to sit up without "tripping" again. Then I had to hesitate just to get reoriented with the sensation of two mouths. It wouldn't do to shout, "Yeah, jus' a minute," in the middle of a quiet walk.

"Are you just waking up?" Ed groaned. "You got fifteen minutes!"

I inhaled sharply. "Shit."

"Felicity?" Al gave me a look of concern. "What's wrong?"

I closed my eyes so I could see him better. "Hit my toe. Nevermind."

I went to get dressed. Every motion was just a little slower and clumsier than it should have been. I kept my eyes to the ground as we walked. _Left, right, left, right—rock, step around it—where are my socks?_ By the time I left the room, there was a heap of clothing and books on the floor that I swore to myself I'd clean up later.

I found Ed with breakfast in the living room. He held out a sandwich. "Awake enough?"

I took the offered food. "Yeah, for now. Sorry in advance."

"What?"

I stuffed the food in my mouth so I wouldn't have to respond.

As Ed started talking about the plans for the day and complaining about certain professors, Izumi decided to break the quiet. "You've grown soft," she accused, and I realized she was talking to Alphonse. He was rubbing his arm like something had bit him. "A trip like this has been well overdue."

"The headmaster made Kendrick agree to let you in, but he's not happy about it, so—"

"Books can only get—"

"—make sure—"

"—you so far if—"

"—you're as—"

"—your body is—"

"—an—"

"—n't fit."

"—noying as possible."

I nodded absently and laughed at Ed. _Slow down. You're getting ahead of Al._ "Will do."

Ed paused with his coat half on. He gave me a quick, critical once-over. I raised my eyebrows.

"Yes, ma'am," Al said. He nudged me.

Ed put on a grin. He turned to the door. "Make sure you ask a lotta questions."

"Uh, yeah," I stammered. Izumi gave me a look. I tried for a little salute. "Yes, ma'am."

"He hates seeing intelligence in people he doesn't like."

Ed shut the door behind us. I took another bite of sandwich. "What's he teach?"

"I hope—"

"World his—"

"—you're take—

"—tory."

"—ing this seriously."

My heart leapt to my throat. "Of course," I said too quickly. Ed glanced back at me, but he didn't say anything. I repeated myself to Izumi: "Of course. You're right. I mean you're right."

"I mean..." I paused to get to the bottom of the stairs. We stepped outside. "Of course he'd teach history."

Ed snorted.

Izumi sighed.

Al spoke up. "We're staying out overnight, aren't we?"

"Did I ask you to pack a change of clothes?"

"...Yes."

"Then yes, we are staying out overnight."

"Well that's just great," I mumbled.

Ed paused on the sidewalk. "Hm?"

"Nothing."

We met up with Alfons by an ice cream shop called Kuchen. "What took you?"

"D'you want to play a game to pass the time?" Al asked of me.

Ed pointed a thumb at me. "She slept in."

"Please no," I muttered at the ground.

"I guess it's okay then." Alfons smiled down at me. My cheeks grew hot.

"Oh..."

"Sleep is important."

"Okay."

He switched to an accented English. "Ice cream on the way back."

"Felicity," Izumi said.

I nodded, smiling, and followed them silently to Alfons' car.

"Is something the matter?" she demanded.

I hopped into the back seat and leaned my head against the window.

"Professor Becker was saying yesterday..."

"Mmm," I responded vaguely at Izumi. I closed my eyes and tried to filter out Ed and Alfons.

"'Mmm' is not a response, Lissy. I expect everyone to participate on this trip."

The sparse forest we'd entered now grew less fuzzy. There were some houses along the path in the distance. I straightened my neck. "Sorry. I know."

"You'll never improve if you refuse to interact with people."

I looked up at her. Izumi, along with everyone else here but Alphonse, has it in her head that my difficulty getting things straight all the time is actually a host of PTSD symptoms. It's probably my fault; I was really vague in trying to dodge questions about my past. I may have, without thinking, told them I'd nearly died, and then referred to something happening to my soul. Pinako called it depersonalization. I just go with it.

Not sure what Ed thinks.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, this time respectfully.

"...she up for it today?"

The word "she" snapped my focus back to the car. We were on the move. I opened my eyes and met Alfons's in the rear view mirror. I sat up. "What do you mean 'up for it'? Of course—of course I'm up for it."

Sig patted me on the back. "I agree with Alphonse. Let's play a game."

"I—" I stopped myself. Switched mouths. "I'm obviously up for anything. Obviously. How do you say obviously—"

"What game?" I asked incredulously.

"—in Germ-ahh." Saying two things at once—not fun. I bit my lip and continued. "In German? I seem to have missed that."

Ed glanced back at me. "Obvious?"

"What do you think, Alphonse?" Izumi asked cheerfully.

"Obvious _ly._ "

"Offenzischlich?" (No, I will not check my spelling.)

Al started to say something, but he stopped and hesitated.

"Sure."

"Twenty Questions?" Al said instead of whatever else he'd been about to say.

"You don't sound so sure," Alfons said. "About being up to it, I mean."

"Mm," I nodded at Al's suggestion. "Bad sarcasm. I'll be fine. I've—"

Izumi said something I didn't catch.

"—been looking forward to this."

"...start."

I glanced up at her. "Sorry, what?"

My feet chose that moment to connect with a stick on the ground, and I stumbled.

Ed held up a finger. "It's true. Felicity's been asking about it all week. I told her to be extra curious with Kendrick."

Izumi's voice softened. "Would you like to start, Lissy?"

"Sure."

"Ed!" Alfons scolded, laughing. "You'll get her kicked out!"

"Wait."

Ed scoffed. "Pffft. Kendrick wouldn't ruin his image like that."

"What?"

"All the same," Alfons insisted, "She might go here someday."

"What?"

Al looked at me warily. "Twenty Questions. Do you want to start the game?"

I realized I'd just stretched out a simple interaction that should have taken all of ten seconds out to almost two minutes. "Y-yeah. Of course. Um..." I glanced at a small rock off the trail.

 _Wait, Alfons thinks..._

Ed chuckled.

The others were waiting. I picked the first thing I saw. "Got something."

 _You go to college at... what... twenty? Is it twenty?_

"Is it a plant?"

 _It lasts four years, doesn't it? What could you even do with a degree in three years?_ Ed and Alfons went mercifully quiet. I walked in silence, wallowing in the sudden reminder of how much time I had. _I guess I'll be gone by then anyway, if I can get through the Gate when Ho opens it._

"Felicity?"

I jolted back to reality. Startled, I started talking Amestrian: " _What? I— Right, the..."_ I cleared my throat. "Sorry. I zoned out. Uh... 'Is it a plant?' No."

I do that occasionally—fall back into the first version of Amestrian I heard. The first time it happened, Al spent days trying to figure out what language it was. I tried not to lie, but I didn't want to tell the truth either. I ended up acting like it was some big secret, which made him even more curious. I did... Well, maybe I'll leave that for later. I've messed up the chronology enough today.

Is chronology the right word?

Whatever.

I shut my eyes again, dreading how completely ruined today was for me.

And it was. I can't remember anything I heard at the university. I accidentally said "yes, ma'am" to Alfons, after which I spent the next hour in an embarrassed haze. Izumi made Al and me go hunting when we finally stopped at the base of a small mountain—because of course Dublith is only half a day's walk to a freaking mountain. The timing of it was horrible, and Ed and Alfons were understandably confused when I decided not to have any ice cream.

I'm very irritable.

* * *

 _A/N: Is it weird that I'm deliberately writing this like a journal...but also a story? I feel like it fits with how I started the whole thing._

 _So what do you think of this sort of chaos? Fourteen year-old me would be ecstatic to read it. That's how long I've been thinking about this. And I'm actually happy about finishing a chapter. What is this_ _—2013? It's not even written well. Well... It's deliberately written poorly. Does that make sense? I'm rambling._

 _Heh._

 _I'd like to thank Lilaclily00 and Mustang's Inferno for reviewing the last chapter. :) Thirty plus views... I have a very quiet audience._


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